Okay. Let me tell you how much I hate having an ed. Its tearing the one thing I love away from me. This girl right here is the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. And I have sat here for an hour crying because she thinks its her fault she can’t fix me. This disorder isn’t beautiful. Its not cute or classy. It destroys you. It doesn’t just hurt you it hurts the one you love. The fact that she has stayed by me and hasn’t left me because of this is amazing. She hasn’t gone a day without telling me how beautiful or how perfect I am. How much I don’t need to change. It’s killing her that I don’t see what she sees. It’s killing me that my disorder is messing up my relationship. No. You can’t fix someone who has an ed. But you can tell them the truth and how beautiful they really are and this girl has never not told me that. If I lose her to this I’m losing the one thing that makes me happy. I’m going to beat this not just for me but for us. I will not let this control my relationship. I won’t let what’s ruining me ruin her. I refuse. So for anyone who thinks having an eating disorder will get people to like you or think you’re prettier you’re wrong. The reality of it is it will ruin anything that makes you happy. It will always take away what you love. Its not great or fun. It’s hell.
I can honestly say I think I have the best girlfriend ever and I’m so blessed to have her
reblog this if you’d like a poem in your ask box based on the first word in your url.
i think it’s cute when someone admits they have a crush on you
i think it’s a fucking miracle
missing you is so HARD. i wish you knew how sorry i was.
I’m not mad that Justin Bieber spat on his fans. I’m not mad that he made his body guards carry him up the Great Wall. I’m not mad he spent the day with strippers or went out tagging where he didn’t belong.
I honestly couldn’t give two shits. Celebrities and I have always been in this awkward agreement that I don’t pay attention to them outside of their work, and in return, their work tends to make me happy. I don’t care about Emma Watson’s hair, even though as a matter of fact I think that shit is the hottest thing since the equator. I’ve never kept up with the Kardashians, I really don’t even know who Perez Hilton is or what he’s doing with his life, and I only recently found out The Bachelor is a real show and not an elaborate hoax.
So what J-Biebs peed in a bucket. I think that’s funny but as far as I’m concerned, there’s more news in my day-to-day life than there is involving his general dismissal of his fans.
But you wanna know something? Don’t you dare fucking tell me to be calm about this D.U.I shit.
Here’s a cool fact about me: my ribs are broken in 27 different places where a drunken driver slammed into the side of my car and almost killed me. I was eighteen. I was in the hospital that whole summer. You can still feel the scars where the bones snapped. I tasted my own lungs when I took a breath.
Here’s a cool fact about america: over one third of people who die in a car crash are gonna go out because some asshole didn’t call a cab. Over one thousand kids died in 2010 because somebody couldn’t sober up. Here’s a cool fucking fact: I’ve lost five friends like this.
They were murdered. I don’t accept that fucking “vehicular manslaughter” charge. You chose to get behind the wheel. You chose to go out while knowing you were intoxicated. You said to yourself “My desire to drive is more important than other people’s lives.” You chose this, and now I have five graves to tend.
Fuck you if you think this isn’t something we should discuss, something we should talk to our loved ones about. How about you stand up to the parents of all five children and try to scoop the taste of dirt out of each of those mouths, try to erase the smell of the coffin as it went into the ground. Tell Talia’s fifteen-year-old corpse you’re really sorry but you don’t think this is an issue. Why don’t you go on and clutch her hands like her mother did while that little girl’s heart slowly stuttered to a halt, wrapped around a piece of metal. It had struck her through the chest hard enough that she didn’t die instantly. She was still breathing for four hours in extreme agony. Talia and I were going to be ballerinas except she was actually good at it. She was the best in our class, professional track written in her blood. She liked snowboarding and loud music and hated mustard. She was so fucking kind and had so much going for her. You know what they don’t talk about? What death looks like as it sweeps across the face of someone you love. How at that point you’re almost sickly glad they gave up.
Fuck you. I won’t calm down. I’m sick of people writing off the actions of idols as “youth behavior.” I’m twenty years old and I’ve done some shit but the few times I’ve had to get home and realized I was three sheets to the wind, I fucking called someone. I have three, maybe four people who would pick me up at 3 in the morning and two of them come with the knowledge that they’re gonna tear me a new asshole when I sober up - I’m sure a celebrity pop star could find someone to drag him to where ever he had to go.
I’m fucking sick of this. How come everybody else has to be on their best behavior all the time or whatever happens to them is their fault, but there are people saying Justin Bieber deserves a sainthood? I hate how they discuss how this is ruining his life instead of discussing the lives he could have ruined - and if this isn’t a familiar issue to you, you haven’t been paying attention. I’m fucking sick of how these assholes get away with everything because they’re in a position of power. I don’t fucking care what he does to his fans.
I care about the fact there are going to be one thousand children dying in really pointless accidents because the people who look up to Bieber are going to say “He did it and he was fine when it happened.”
This is important. This is serious. I really kind of hope you don’t believe me because the truth is, if you don’t, you haven’t lost someone to an idiot driving drunk.
This isn’t meant to shame you if you are his fan. I’m not mad about whatever the fuck else he did. I’m mad we’re still treating him like he’s just a wild rich kid.
There are people out there that didn’t live past fourteen. I won’t calm down. This needs to be heard. This needs to be seen.
That house across the street from the Westboro Baptist Church continues to be awesome.